


Ivan thinks.

by ninamalfoy



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Oneshot, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-13
Updated: 2010-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-06 06:04:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninamalfoy/pseuds/ninamalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spur-of-the-moment thing that I typed up. Reflections on a certain Miroslav Klose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ivan thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> First published on LJ on July 16th, 2005.
> 
> Not true in the least bit. I'm just borrowing their public persona to play.

Sometimes you think - watching his graceful limbs, just that short of being lanky, finely toned and muscled, the slight tan painting them golden - sometimes you think of putting him in a ridiculously old-fashioned costume, dusty blue and blinding white shimmering folds, a thin gold band in his hair, matching his cross necklace. Maintaining a regal posture, not a king yet but the oldest son - no, the only, knowing that there'll be a burden for him to carry, the reigning of the kingdom, oftentimes too serious for his own good, learning statemanship from his educators, dilligently pursuing his studies, in the afternoon some sparring with the swordsmaster, the torso free of any padding - a king's son never has to show any fear - and proving every skill of his, impeccably. In the evenings, at grand parties, he'll be shy, not having gotten used to be jovial and boisterous like his father, the king, yet, to make people connect to him, so he still blushes when he has to do a short speech, only addressing the most important things curtly, but this endearing shyness also draws people in.

You can see him so vividly in this role that it makes you shake your head at yourself, chuckling a little. Your fantasy land sure has never disappeared, the land you used to spend whole hours in when you still were a little boy, the fierce warrior who killed a thousand foes your favorite hero, and you've read about Roland and Oliphaunt far too often, and Conan the Barbarian was a really cool guy, too. Sometimes you even pictured yourself as Aragorn, killing all these orcs in cold blood - and yes, when you watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy, you almost fell in love with Viggo Mortensen, a guy after your very own kind, though Sean Bean would be an even better choice to swap war stories with.

Miro is more alike to Faramir, you think. David Wenham has these same expressive eyes, greyblue shadows, so full of feeling and they also share that shy smile that, once lit, warms everyone in its near vicinity from inside out. Yes, Miro is Faramir and moreso Prince Mio, the orphan boy finding his real life in the Land of Faraway, in a land so full of poetry that it's beautifully unreal and yet alive.

Sometimes the grown-up part of your mind wonders what really happened to Bo Vilhelm Olsson. Did his soul fly with the ghost in the bottle to the Land of Faraway and his body got left behind on a cold bench in an empty park, the golden apple falling from a hand, turning into a shriveled-up, rotten thing?


End file.
